


Christmas in the TARDIS

by calapine



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:40:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23855518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calapine/pseuds/calapine
Summary: A very merry Christmas for Romana and the Doctor.
Relationships: Fourth Doctor/Romana II, The Doctor/Romana II
Kudos: 4





	Christmas in the TARDIS

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LiveJournal in 2005 for gwynnega as a Christmas gift in the Doctor Who secret santa fic exchange.

The Doctor walked into the console room and, to his credit, had only been working at the console for several minutes before he realised that there was something wrong.

“Romana?”

“Yes, Doctor?” He looked up at her. She was standing on a small stepladder and holding a round piece of bright and shiny plastic in one hand. In the other, she held a bucket containing many more of these colourful baubles.

“Romana, it’s come to my attention that it’s a great deal greener in here than what I remember.”

“Yes, Doctor.” She smiled, looking terribly pleased with herself.

“For one thing, there are more trees.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Romana, are you responsible for leaving these trees in here?”

She sighed and stepped down from the stepladder before fishing out a bright red hat with fluffy white trimming from somewhere in her dress, and putting it on the Doctor’s head. She stepped back and admired her handiwork. “Much better.”

“You’ve put a hat on my head,” said the Doctor.

“A Santa hat. It suits you. Though your hair could be a bit whiter, I suppose.” She picked her own hat off the floor and stuck it on her head at a jaunty angle. Unlike the Doctor’s, hers was green and distinctly elf-like. Not like real elves, of course, but the kind you see in the afternoon movie on Christmas day.

“I suppose I should also ask you why we have trees and paper-chains and lights cluttering the place up.”

“I suppose you should,” agreed Romana.

“Romana, why-”

“-Christmas!” she interrupted.

“Is it?”

“Oh, probably. Somewhere. Here, for instance.”

“What a marvellous idea,” said the Doctor, grinning.

Romana grinned back. “It is, isn’t it? I thought so anyway. Have you seen K-9? I have some antler ears for him.”

The Doctor kept his opinion on what K-9 would think of having antler ears attached to his head to himself, and said, “I’ll let him know.” He turned back to the console, deciding that even if it was Christmas that didn’t mean there wasn’t an exciting and terribly interesting universe out there.

“Doctor, would you mind stepping outside a moment?”

The Doctor felt a gust of cold air hit the back of his neck and adjusted his scarf. “Romana, opening the doors when I’m trying to take off is terribly dangerous, you know.”

“Yes, I do,” she called back from outside the TARDIS. “But you weren’t taking off. You were forgetting that it was Christmas. Come outside.”

It was snowing. The Doctor could feel his nose turning red, but didn’t really care that much because he was watching Romana. Her face was tilted up to the sky, her eyes closed and flakes of snow were caught on her coat, her hair, her eyelashes. He wanted to brush them away, but resisted the urge. She looked so happy, so peaceful, standing there that he really didn’t want to disturb her.

Instead he stood next to her, slipped his hand into hers.

“Quite beautiful.”

“It is rather,” agreed Romana.

“I wasn’t talking about the snow.”

“Oh.” She gave his arm a friendly squeeze and then skipped back to the TARDIS. “Look,” she said, pointing up as the Doctor joined her.

He grinned and gave the blue woodwork a firm tap. “She’s such an old romantic.”

Romana tilted her head up. “Are you going to kiss me then?”

“Well, I believe that that is the tradition when one is standing under a sprig of mistletoe.”

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and bent down to find that her lips were warm and soft and rather a nice contrast to the coolness of the melting snow.

“Merry Christmas, Romana,” he said as they parted.

“Merry Christmas, Doctor.” She took his hand in hers. “Now come and help me make a snowman.”


End file.
